


In Excelsis Play-D'oh

by upquarkAO3



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Delightful Decker trifecta in full effect, Devil's a squishy sinnamon roll, Ella's nosy, Gen, Linda's lonely, Lucifer is putty at Christmastime but hates to have it pointed out, Maze is a bad@$$ Amenadiel is not, Mum is a straight-up wench, Oh Come All Ye Faithful Fic Exchange, The man is useful in the kitchen as he'll tell you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upquarkAO3/pseuds/upquarkAO3
Summary: This is for the ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ Secret Santa Fic exchange. Christmas Eve at Chez Chlaze with the whole crew and continued repayment of Ella's church favor deal. The rating is only for some implied shenanigans and one instance of very untoward language, but *IT JUST FIT SO VERY WELL* MASSIVE APOLOGIES





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AutumnRayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnRayne/gifts).



> Because Lucifer finds himself to be a bit of a malleable guy this Christmas Eve. And I’m also really wiped and a decent title ain’t coming to mind. Prompt was Lucifer/Chloe and keyword was ‘tinsel’. For AutumnRayne!!! Hope you have a very Merry, Autumn! <3

 

 

“Come ON, brother! What ARE you doing in there, anyway? Not like you’ve got much use for my grooming products…ordinary cueball wax ought to suffice for that bald pate of yours.”

“I’ll just be a minute. Keep your pants on.”

‘Not something I often hear emanating from my own bedroom’, Lucifer grumbled to himself. He finished the last sip of Macallan and had just put the tumbler down on his bar and spun on his heel to chide Amenadiel once again when he found himself face to face with him.

Recovering his aplomb, he raised a haughty eyebrow and chuckled, flipping one hand up and down in front of his brother. “This? THIS aging hipster look is what took all that time? Bloody hell, all you need is a lumberjack beard and man bun to look properly wretched.”

“What?” Amenadiel looked down at himself. He had on skinny jeans (no easy feat with the junk in his trunk), construction boots (size 11 thankyouverymuch), a plaid shirt layered under a cardigan and his favorite slouchy hat. He thought he looked pretty fly, actually.  “We don’t all need to run around like Armani makes the only clothes for humans. Pretentious snit much?”

“This is **Prada** , you plebian. If you’re going to toss insults you ought to wield them properly. Any road, we’re running late. Must yet pick up the Doctor and it’s you’ll who’ll be making the requisite apology phone calls.”

Lucifer and Amenadiel rolled eyes and lobbed anemically witty insults at each other all the way down in the elevator after Linda informed them she had accepted a ride with Dan instead of waiting around. They continued sibling snipery all the way across town where Lucifer was secretly relieved to be driving his own car instead of Amenadiel’s rental. He’d been quite close-mouthed about what had happened to his other sedan, but so far it looked like the level of dull in his taste had remained static.

“Well, now we’ll be on time, anyway.”

“Feh. Made me break my word, you cretin. Scratch that **no** , I suppose you HAVEN’T as I’d said I’D be able to take her. And since I was ready on time I WAS able. You’re the Achilles’ heel here, brother mine. Per norm.”

Still bickering amenably as they walked up to the door, Lucifer gave his pressed jacket a last tug…for naught as immediately upon answering the door Trixie flung herself around his waist.

“Merry Christmas, Lucifer! Or…”

“Or what, child? And dearie me…pry yourself off and give this to your mother, yeah? And you. You shut it.” The last growl was directed to Amenadiel’s chuckles as he watched Lucifer pluck up one of Trixie’s small wrists with thumb and forefinger as if she were a soiled sock and pressed the bottle of wine into her other arm. He brushed down his belly and sighed. Hopelessly rumpled. Why did he ever bother ironing before coming here?

“Quite a magnet for the ladies you are, Luci. Shame it’s the wrong Decker who keeps throwing herself at you.”

Lucifer prepared a scathing remark but decided karma had finally erred in his favor when Mena saw Maze come around the corner. Dressed to kill in a skintight scarlet dress that covered her from throat to ankle and STILL left nothing to the imagination, the Devil grinned toothily at his demon. Lovely punishment for his big brother indeed.

“Maze. You look…” Amenadiel stumbled over his words as he nearly did his feet.

“I know I do. Come in already. Idiot.”

Whispering, ‘Better pick your dangling jaw up off the floor, brother. Unbecoming with that ridiculous get-up is the ‘fish out of water’ look upon your face.’ Lucifer brushed past him and gave Maze a small pat on the backside as he sallied by. She returned the little greeting with a pinch and a smirk of her own and Lucifer swept grinning into the kitchen feeling everything was right with his world again.

Ah. Yes, wasn’t it though?

Trixie had clambered up upon one of the counter stools and was playing with the little jingle bells tied to the beribboned neck of the wine bottle. Chloe had her back turned, bending over to put something in the oven. That delectable rear clad in hunter green velvet leggings was heaven on earth indeed.

“Lovely, darling. Simply splendid.”

Trixie and Chloe offered bookended looks of confusion and mild irritation.

“What’s splendid Lucifer?”

“The sumptuous view obviously, child. Of your holiday décor.” This emphasized last sentence was for Trixie’s benefit but Chloe wasn’t fooled for a second and rolled her eyes at him as she straightened up.

“Nice of you to show, finally. I was hoping for a little help in here. Maze isn’t really into the whole domestic scene.”

“No, I imagine not. Not exactly her forte. Well, make room then. And why don’t you open that bottle, decant and let it breathe?” Unceremoniously nudging her to the side, Lucifer took in the scene. Chloe hadn’t done half badly, he thought. Asparagus was set to go in the steamer he’d bought her (he had all but squawked when he found out she’d been nuking those veggies in a microwave), flank steaks were coming up to room temp in their marinade and from the scent just starting to waft from the oven it seemed Chloe had made her signature sweet potato casserole with bacon and pecan topping. He’d been nearly appalled at the combination the first time she’d put it in front of him, but had grudgingly admitted it wasn’t terrible.

“Right. I’ll just whip up the Hollandaise and we’re in dire need of some biscuits, yeah? Here small one – make yourself useful. Toss the salad, and mind you don’t cut yourself slicing the tomatoes. Camouflage color aside it’s quite gauche to ruin a decent dish with poor skill.” He busied himself gathering bowls, saucepans and ingredients and Chloe could barely keep herself from giggling at the image of the man who called himself the Devil giving Martha Stewart a run for her money.

“What?” He looked over at her quizzically and she nearly did burst out laughing. In his flurry of hurry he’d already tossed his wrinkled jacket over the back of a chair, done something odd with two dishtowels and there was a wide streak of flour through one dark eyebrow.

“Just admiring the wardrobe malfunction. In your pants.”

For a moment his eyes lit up with scandalous glee until he realized she was talking about one towel flung over a shoulder and the other tucked into his belt in front.

“They’re ’trousers’ darling. Pants are for underneath. I can show you if you’d like.” The last sentence was enough of a Cheshire-grinned whisper so Trixie didn’t hear, but still!

She shook her head, toffee waves rippling around her shoulders. “Thanks, no. Seen it all already. Couple of times. Just like half of LA, probably.”

“Mmm. Yes well, one can never have too much of a good thing, hey?” That voice was implied sin distilled.

Hearing a small conspiratorial cough behind her Chloe spun, cheeks pinking as she saw her mother. Apparently Maze had let her in on the sly, as evidenced by the crossed arms and teeth-licking grin she was offering behind as Mena was staring at hers in that dress. Times like these Chloe nearly could believe her roommate was indeed on the lam from Hell. With a warm smile and a twinkling eye Penny gushed, “Merry Christmas, Pumpkin! And Lucifer, don’t you look just delicious – can’t wait to taste whatever you’re dishing out.”

“Now that’s a proper greeting from a lovely lady! Hello to you, sweet.” He leaned in for a quick peck on Penelope’s cheek and nearly purred as she wiped the flour from above his eye. Chloe rolled her own (again) and shooed Trixie and her mother out to ensure Maze didn’t spike the eggnog as she’d threatened earlier.

Left relatively alone again with Lucifer for the moment, Chloe suddenly found herself the victim of a small swarm of belly butterflies at his proximity as she watched him work. Why? No, scratch that. They’d had a couple of near misses down that road and by her estimation it was not something to wonder about tonight. Choosing words over nerves she spoke quickly. “So….great. Looks like you’ve got that - thanks, Lucifer. I’m just going to make a quick pan gingerbread for dessert. Everything can cook at the same temperature as the casserole.”

For the next half hour time was spent happily fussing about the small kitchen, a very brief elbowing match when they both went for the sifter at the same time which ended only when he sprinkled her with some spice mix, bickering about proper grilling temperatures, greeting Dan and Linda…in short, easy, wonderful fun with family and friends.

Dinner was the same. Rife with humor, camaraderie and the hellions making their best efforts to skim the line of appropriateness considering the presence of Trixie and their innate naughtiness to the combined levity of all. To the delight of everyone above the age of eight Linda turned out to be the grandmaster of double entendre delivered with a perfectly straight face, but knowing her as he did Lucifer wasn’t surprised. Impressed, though. What a wicked tongue, indeed! He smirked, running his own down the inside of his cheek as he enjoyed the little jaunt down memory lane.

“Chloe, everything was wonderful. Thank you.” Dan gave her shoulders a grateful squeeze as he and Amenadiel made their way to the kitchen to clean up, Maze offering to supervise - whip optional. Chloe caught her mom grinning at her and gave a satisfied smile back. Yes, not anywhere like last Christmas when they’d still been technically together but felt much further apart than they did now. Sometimes change, even or perhaps **especially** hard change, turned out to be good.

Trixie bounced around getting in everyone’s way during clean-up and resettling themselves to demand they all open presents. NOW.

“It’s a ridiculous custom really. At what other birthday party do the guests receive gifts? And besides, December 25th is based on pagan ritual, and…oh dear, child. Stop. I’m simply teasing. Here – read the names and hand out like a good little elf, yeah?”

The look of relief on Trixie’s face as Lucifer handed over the bags he’d hidden in Maze’s room weeks ago staunched Chloe’s intensifying glower at him. The next look to cross her pretty face was stunned enchantment when Trix made her open the gift from him first. Her daughter gushed pure delight at the small earrings, “They look like beautiful stars, Mommy!”

“I cannot accept these.” Chloe’s words were purely perfunctory as she looked with awe at the tiny glints of colorful intensity in the small grey velvet box. Almost otherworldly those fiery tints were.

“Oh, but they’re SO pretty!” from Trixie.

“Well…only if they’re not real.”

“Those are not diamonds. No freaking way.” Dan shook his head, balancing somewhere on the cusp of sour remorse and awe at Lucifer’s boldness.

“Of course not Daniel, such a gift would be inappropriate between work partners. You can’t think I’d do something so untoward as that.”

“Mm.”

Lucifer tucked a small smile into the corners of his mouth as he watched Trixie put them on her mom. He hadn’t been lying: he never did. They weren’t diamonds. And the child was right, they did look like little stars. As they should seeing as that’s what they were. It had been an awfully long time since he’d used his angelic gifts, but hide-in-plain-sight seemed appropriate here. Just tiny condensations of sparkling solidified light, but uniquely precious. Like she was.

“Thank you, Lucifer. They’re beautiful.”

Like she was.

He suddenly found it difficult to speak and simply tilted his head in response.

His little silence was glossed over as Trixie opened his gift to her next, a subscription to TinselTown magazine. Her wide smile was far brighter than the garland of the same silvery fluff she’d been wrapped in since dessert. Letting fly a piercing squeal to see her favorite actress back on the cover, she giggled as Maze snatched it out of her hand to pore over the story on Leslie aka Amy Dods’ resurrection from herself and those illegally expensive habits. Watching his demon and her small companion engrossed together, his dopey brother gawping over Maze (still: **such** a whipped cur he was!), Dan, Penelope and Chloe all chatting amicably while watching Trix…ahh. Yes, easy peace such as this was much more likely what his youngest brother had been after rather than all the ancillary pomp and circumstance following his last appearance here. Humans. They did generally insist on complicating matters. Lucifer sighed.

He felt a gentle hand on one of his shoulders and looked up. Linda was standing behind the couch having returned from refilling her glass.

“Where’s **your** family this festive night, Doctor?” He asked this softly, suddenly realizing how artfully she’d always dodged most personal queries.

She smiled, but a little sadly and said nothing as she shook her head. He stroked light fingertips on the back of her hand. “Complicated then, hey? I do understand, love.”

“Something like. And yes, I suppose you might after all.”

He felt the tug in her voice and responded by pulling her hand to his mouth and planting a quick kiss in her palm. To keep her from getting too lost in her thoughts he smoothly reached back to pluck the wineglass from her other hand and gave her a devilish gleam, “Lovely, thanks darling. Why don’t you get yourself one?”

“Honestly, Lucifer. Such a scamp.” But the little trick worked; she was chuckling.

“That I am. Another brilliant diagnosis.”

Still holding her other hand, Lucifer pulled her around the edge of the couch to sit beside him. She too was someone he’d become incredibly grateful for over the past year, not that he’d ever tell her overtly. Doctor and client watched Trixie’s delight at plowing through the rest of her gifts, and after a while Dan and Chloe took their little girl back to her room to tuck in and read stories.

“So, visions of sugarplums dancing yet, Daniel?” Lucifer asked when the motherfucker (!literally! repulsive that mess was!) finally came back into the living room, yawning.

“Nah. Nothing on earth has more energy than a kid at Christmastime. She’s roped Chloe into one more story, but I’m beat. What do you say, ladies?”

With brief ‘goodbyes’ and ‘see you laters’ Dan, Penelope and Linda took their leave and suddenly feeling like a third wheel with Maze and Amenadiel making lecherous googly-eyes, Lucifer covered his rapid exit murmuring something about ‘saying farewell to the hostess’. He walked down the hallway, but heard nothing. Trixie’s door was ajar so he poked his nose in and smiled at what he saw. The little girl’s eyes were closed and her body was sprawled over her mother’s side. But even in sleep Trixie looked a streak of lightning waiting to crackle.

He stepped closer. Chloe’s eyes were closed too, one hand on the cracked spine of the opened book splayed on her chest and the other arm around her daughter.

Lucifer gently removed the book and pulled Trixie’s ridiculous pink and purple quilt up over them. He took a last, lingering look at Chloe. Long locks of her hair fell in loose waves across the curve of her cheek and as he leaned to sweep them away gently he saw his stars’ coruscation in her ears. Such small sparks of his divine light; so tiny compared to what he could do. Such a tiny mortal life they rested on. But, oh. She was anything but small to him.

He hesitated, then came close to kiss her on the temple, unwilling to resist the impervious pull on his heart any longer. He closed his eyes briefly and enjoyed the feel of her soft skin on his mouth, scenting the fresh charm and spicy gingerbread blend of Chloe-at-Christmas coupled with the serene sound of her breathing: all the best gifts he’d never known he wanted wrapped in one lovely package. And not simply wanted: needed, almost. Comfort and quiet. Balm and peace. Joy of the purest kind he’d known yet here.

A silent, holy night indeed.

Well, perhaps not entirely at that.

His eyes popped open at a little snicker and a very devilish gleam was the result. And not his! A scant six inches from his face Trixie was wide awake and indeed looked every bit the imp lit up with mischievous glee at what he was caught doing. He recoiled, recovered himself (the unmitigated gall of this human child!) and looked sternly at her. Waggling an ‘oh, no you don’t, young lady’ index finger at her puckish grin he then brought it to his lips in a long ‘shhhh’.

‘Merry Christmas, Lucifer!’ she whispered loudly enough to drown out not only all the off-tempo little drummer boys but likely half the Heavenly Host’s alto section as well. He cringed, watching a transient furrow mar Chloe’s smooth brow.

Sotto voce admonishment: ‘It won’t be if you wake your mother, child. Shush now. Sleep. Or your Saint Nicolas will snatch back his gifts up that chimney you don’t have.’

‘Okay.’ This whisper was much more conspiratorially modulated and as Trixie closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Chloe he felt a pang. The thought dawned that he wished to be there too and (bloody Hell what was happening to him?!) he didn’t even mind if Trixie remained. He just wanted the Decker women safe and cozy under his care. And all to himself. As he left the room, he snickered a bit at the thought of curling under the gaudy covers with Chloe and her daughter…and so long as it was a fantasy why not pretty Penelope cuddled up on his other side? The fact that nothing about the chaste little daydream was untoward was missed completely, but as he passed into the living room once more the twinkly lights on the fat tree glowed brighter for a second or two. No one noticed it, as things like that are missed often.

“Well, brother?”

He glanced over at Amenadiel as he collected his jacket. “All sorted. Snug as proverbial bugs.” He chose not to mention Trixie; certainly the child had sense enough not to provoke her fictional jolly old elf after such a lovely evening. “No snoring, any road – there’s a gift for you at least, Mazie.”

“Tell me about it. These thin walls are kiiiiiiilllling me. And not just **her** ridiculous noise, although the woman way needs a CPAP. **I** CAN’T - uh…entertain well.” At her words Lucifer was tickled to see Amenadiel pale beneath his rich skin, then blush when she leaned in and bit his ear. “So you better keep a lid on it tonight, hear? Or the only Christmas balls I’ll be juggling will be the one on the gag. Got it?”

The hellions both snickered at the look of combined electric shock and lusty chagrin lighting up Amenadiel.

“Darling, as it seems you have things well in hand as it were, I’ll be taking my leave.” Struck by the same whim as earlier Lucifer leaned in and planted a quick appreciative peck on his Maze’s cheek, then rested a palm on Amenadiel’s shoulder. “Good luck brother. Think you’re going to need a Christmas miracle to survive a hormonally-horned demon silently this night.”

Shaking his head, Amenadiel poured himself another glass of eggnog. He wiggled the dregs in the pitcher at Maze who nodded, then she upended the rest of the rum in his glass when he wasn’t looking. “So where are you off to?”

Lucifer sighed irritably, straightening his cuffs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Which I shan’t, so don’t bother asking.”

“ **_I_ ** know.” Maze grinned as Amenadiel took a sip of the drink, then made a face at his glass. “He’s going to church with Ella.” She actually laughed aloud as Amenadiel’s expression went from wince at the unexpected bite of alcohol to flat out incredulous.

“You’re WHAT?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes ceilingward. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“Look who’s talking.” Maze and Mena then smirked congratulations at each other, having said the exact same thing at the same time in the same tone of voice.

“She did me a favor. This is her repayment.”

“Church, brother? Our father’s house? You?”

“Please. You know Dad’s supposedly everywhere: knows all, sees all, blah blah blah– rather pervily voyeuristic when you think on it. But clumps of these humans are bound and determined to shut him away in one place behind four gilded walls and do their weekly penance apart from the rest of their sordid lives. It’s a pointless treadmill, really. Except for some.”

“So…” Amenadiel’s eyebrows raised.

“ **So** brother, little Ella’s one of those latter people. Actually seems engaged with the whole shindig, which is quite strange considering the rest of her personality. Anyhoo, deal’s a deal and I made mine so off I go. I’d say ‘behave’ but I think I know better. At least use bleach on solid surfaces when you’re finished. After all, a child lives here.”

With a last suggestive lilt to his eyebrows Lucifer closed the door on the two expressions of demonic smirk and angelic agog. He spent most of the drive over to Ella’s church grousing to himself. The inner monologue didn’t get any more cleaned up when he saw her waiting on the sidewalk as he pulled into the lot, tapping a booted foot. With a flicker of his fingertips he wicked away the metal handicapped placard in the front-row parking space he turned into. Late as he was, if the spot hadn’t been taken yet it wasn’t going to be.

Ella, who’d spent the evening volunteering at the adjacent rectory’s soup kitchen had pointedly yanked on the sleeve of her sweater to make obvious bug-eyes at her watch. She looked over for a moment in brief confusion as the change in her peripheral vision, then shook it off to squeak at him as he unfolded himself from behind the wheel. “Thought you weren’t going to show!”

He sighed petulantly. “Never fear, darling. Word’s my bond.”

“We’ll be lucky to get a seat!”

“I think your definition of luck differs significantly with mine.”

She was right, standing room only, but since their spot in a back corner was closest to the exit Lucifer thought all was well that ended so. He found the whole scene a bit grueling as always, save for the music. He did snigger a bit at “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” for which his whispered, _‘oh yes indeed. and often’_ earned a sharp elbow in his ribs from his tiny warden. However the instrumental lead-in and then the longing voice of the soloist singing Dona Nobis Pacem hit differently. He began to mentally wander in the beautiful magic of the music and the people providing it. Even though, and perhaps most of all **because** he knew how happiness and good will was a choice – a difficult and transient one. Fickle peace. Yes, he may indeed want some of that for himself after all and a rather daunting thought that was to consider.

He refused as always Ella’s prod toward Communion (‘barbaric notion, really’). Hearing the children’s choir rendition of Gloria for the recessional made him remember the feeling of being young and having some small seed faith even though he struggled then, too. He suddenly missed singing as he was created to; of disseminating that specifically sonorous tone of vast hope as he hadn’t since. Catching himself as he began to choke up he turned and left abruptly, brushing off Ella and her questions as she followed him out onto the sidewalk.

She watched him carefully as he finally spoke, evaluating all input as she always did.

He coughed, giving his Iscariot eyes a quick swipe then speaking with glibness reflecting over the darker undercurrents in his voice, “My reluctant tithe is over for the month, darling. Met your quota and this bit’s all fluff anyway. You humans. Only do and get behind what you can understand and give either a rat’s arse or a fat pass for what you don’t. God loves the blindly obedient – easier to lead you all along by the nose if everyone’s already pointing in the same direction.”

Yep. He was hiding again. Mostly from himself. But letting it go for the moment she simply said, “Hm. That’s deep for you, dude. But I don’t agree.”

“What?” He was genuinely surprised, but recovered quickly enough to snark back. “Well what would you know about it anyway? You and your condimental trappings of faith.”

For a moment Ella was confused, and he began to chuckle at the Shar Pei twist of her forehead. Then she cottoned on and they both laughed.

“Oh man, are you talking about that mustard seed thing? Yeah, that is pretty lame, I guess. ‘Moving mountains’. Huh. Sometimes I can’t even move my butt to fold the wash when the dryer bings.”

“Should’ve asked for a years’ worth of laundry-service from me instead of monthly church attendance then, love.”

“THAT’S it!” She slapped him enthusiastically on the arm and he startled.

“Bloody Hell, woman - ‘that’s what’?”

“That’s what faith is. Love’s trajectory. See, I get off on figuring things out….”

He interrupted. “Reeeeeaaallly, now.” He flashed her a scandalously filthy look and she slapped his elbow again, chuckling.

“No, you walking, talking hard-on.” Lucifer unexpectedly exploded into a confetti of giggles at this dirty comment from the unpredictably pious right on God’s front porch, and so did Ella until she recovered enough to continue. “ **I mean** , that’s what makes me tick – always has. Figuring out puzzles, problems, tangles when I could. All that stuff. But God – now HIM I definitely can’t figure….but somehow, I’m okay with that. Dunno why but there it is.” She shrugged her shoulders and under the thick sweater he is suddenly aware of how small she is. How fragile. As they all are, really. Tiny threads willingly knotting themselves into big concepts despite lacking the perspective which would render them able to see the whole tapestry of creation. Their predicament had always amused him, though perhaps less of late as it had begun to dawn on him that he had the same difficulty.

“So a rationalist like you, even earn your living on it, chooses to suspend disbelief. Actually embrace cognitive dissonance on a universal scale so as to keep faith in something you cannot possibly vindicate or equivocate?”

“Yep. Weird, huh?”

“Indeed.”

She nodded, pursing her lip.

“To clarify, I was in agreement that ‘you’re weird’ – and don’t swat at me again! For a little spit of a thing you pack a wallop.”

“So does God, Lucifer. He just never comes at you like you’d think. Kinda the big guy’s MO. Anyway, been interesting but it’s way late for this convo. I’m wiped out from a long day so gotta jet. ‘Merry Christmas’, Luce.”

She hugged him. He should have expected it. Rather begrudgingly he gave her fuzzy shoulders a little tap back as his gift, and as hers she released him quickly. Leaving him with a bright smile and wave he watched as she hopped in her car (a very robust souped-up muscle version whose engine didn’t sound quite street-legal: interesting, that was) and drove off. When the church bells began to chime the midnight hour he looked up into the (for once) clear night sky to his starlight blighted by the neon glare of human artificiality. He wondered for the umpteenth time if it was purposefully done. If the species chose to create and then exist only within its own manufactured boundaries so there was no room left for wonder beyond their collective ken. Like a child playing at hide-and-seek covering its own eyes and proudly declaring itself invisible to others since it was blind. Very myopic.

He deliberately avoided thinking he might be guilty of the same thing. As the relentlessly ebullient human had implied, this day had been long enough already.

As he walked over to his car the last peals of the church bells ringing away made him think of Frank; something else beautiful removed from this world. Lucifer still harbored sadness about the loss of the priest, but had come far enough to have learned he was glad to have met him in the first place. Might’ve even loved him a little, now that he knew more what that was and how it applied to humans. The man’s faith had astounded him.

At that thought he drew himself up sharply, car key in one hand and door handle in the other. ‘Faith’. ‘Love’. That last word which he bandied about easily that Ella had grabbed onto. That it was the path of faith. He’d found some unexpected faith in Frank - **had** he loved him too? Maybe…after all he took pleasure in his company, they shared a cherished interest and he missed him terribly after he was gone. So he must have.

And why? Not ‘why did he’ but ‘why had he been able to’? Who’d taught him that on a human level? Linda, bless her, was forever trying to get him to examine things he didn’t quite understand as they did, but no…not his dear Doctor.

Definitely not fierce Maze. Laughable that was.

His family? Mm. Much as he hated to admit it, yes, in his way he probably did have some semblance of ‘love’ for them though he didn’t think they’d exactly taught him how. More tied to angst and conceptions of duty with long attachment, those relationships were. No easy road there, certainly. Especially considering how he’d reacted to Uriel’s death. Nay, oblivion. He sat down in the front seat, rubbing the sudden ache under his sternum. Bloody inconvenient these ‘feelings’ could be.

Lost in thought Lucifer remained quiet in his car as the people began flooding out of the church doors and blocking his escape. Oops. Bugger all, trapped. But he amused himself by watching them pass by; brittle old couples leaning on one another, ticking along to dare death and gravity with mincing steps. Hand-holding simpering sycophants with willing delusion in their eyes. Little children tugging at their parents; eager to get home and await to be doused with commercialism on the morrow. Hah, that rowdy one in the purple coat looked like the Detective’s spawn. All eager brown-eyed moxie.

The Detective. **Chloe**. Ah. There. Now the ache in his chest was easing. Demanding and frustrating as she could be at times thinking of her did always make him feel…

He blinked. Hard.

Oh. **Father**.

He trusted her. Had faith in her. Because he loved her. Didn’t just find her intriguing (he did), or want to see her undressed (he really did) or have interest in her well-being (he really REALLY did) or any other single aspect of a myriad minorities of what and how he thought of her.

No…ALL of them. All of them together meant that he LOVED her. And watching her, being near her, interacting as they did…all of it – THAT’s what taught him the ‘how’ of the ‘what’. Both rather daunting to consider. And she’d said she’d had faith in him, too. Did that mean she….?

Good Heavens.

He wasn’t quite sure how to define this hopeful feeling, even to himself. It wasn’t like he felt for Frank. Or his family. Or Linda. Or even Maze. But after all, this ‘love’ that humans extolled in addition to suffering under, well perhaps it could come in as many different forms as they did. Different but the same. Variations on a theme. Yes. That made sense.

And not being able to define it clearly didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Like Ella’s perception of God.

‘Seems you insist on being entwined in everything don’t you, Dad. Bloody foppishly annoying, that is.’

Faith, hope and love corded tight knots indeed.

And to think, he’d once adored bondage play. Well.

Lucifer huffed, well done with this night, but still let G-rated thoughts of Chloe deepen the apostrophes around his smile. As the stragglers had finally cleared from the back of his bumper he was finally able to pull away, flickering quick fingertips as he went. The elderly priest standing in the doorway at the top of the stone steps watching the parking lot clear out was startled to see what appeared to be a metal sign wink into existence just in front of the sidewalk.

Shaking his head and wondering how much rum had been in the evening’s fruitcake he closed and bolted the doors and vowed to head straight to bed.

From a darkened nave of the stone portico connecting the rectory to the church, a lone figure stepped out into the light to watch Lucifer drive away.

An incisive smile sliced across the beautiful face, but it was not one of peace. No.

Not at all.

Vindication.

Her peace would come later. When she was home where she belonged.

The being that resided in the vessel of Charlotte Richards tilted a shrilly brilliant white-eyed glare at the Heavens above and the rictus etching her lips was laced with the same venom as her thoughts.

**_“I’ll be coming soon enough, husband dear. Coming for my family. Coming for_ _you_ _. Have faith in_ ** _that_** _.”_ **


End file.
